THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES X MKH. E. M. McLEOD. Love's Offering AND OTHER POEMS MRS. E. M. MC-LEOD Wife of Rev. James McLeod, Pioneers and for many years residents of Laingsburg, Michigan, now of Bakersfield, California. 1900. J. C. STONE, Printer, Lansing, Mk-h. CONTENTS. Love's Offering '_ 5 Our Ship 6 In Memo Ham .... 7 What Shall We Do? . . 8 Loving Heart* and Friends . . 9 Whither Bound? ... 9 Onward to Victory . . . 10 The King's Busness Requires Haste 11 What Can I Do? .... 12 Lena 13 Distant Murmurs .... 1.4 Lullaby 15 Open Gate to the Twentieth Century 16 Spring 17 Rain 18 A Royal Gift .... 18 The Cup of Life .... 19 In Memory of the Heroic Dead . 20 Treasures of Earth . . - 21 Our Harvest Song ... 22 Thanksgiving Song ... 23 Grandma's Christmas Song . 25 Go Work in My Vineyard . . 26 611133 LIBRARY PAGE Rally S4 Encouragement to Labor . . s.~> What Can We Do for Jesus V . Joy Cometh in the Morning . NT Semi-Centennial of the Baptist Church NS Prohibition S9 Asleep in Jesus .... 90 Bury Me by the River . . . 91 An Epitaph 91 Home Angels 92 Lines 9H An Epitaph 9:J Out of Place 94 They Have Entered Into Their Rest '.).~> Decoration Day .... 9fi Our County Jail is Empty . . 97 Song 1 of an Invalid . . . 94 Little Feet 104 PAGE Bear Ye One Another's Burdens - 105 Kind Words 106 Snow 10() Red Ribbon Tidings - - - 107 Our Loved Ones .... 108 A Quiet Christmas - - - 109 Hetonka Ill Last Words ----- 112 "He Being Dead, Yet Speaketh" - 113 To Alice 115 Our Pioneers 117 To A Dying Friend - . lls Weep Not - 11!) The Contrast - - - ' - 120 Brothers, To The Rescue - - 122 Blessed Are The Pure In Heart - 128 Bakersfield 124 We Are Going Home to Mother - 125 Eighty To-day 12G God's Finger Touched Her and She Slept - 127 Light Beyond - - - 128 An Appeal - - - - -130 Woman's Fair Name - 181 In Memoriam - 133 Our Banquet 1890 - - - 134 Be True 135 PAGE To Jessie on Her Birthday . 130 Life on the Rockies . . , . 1.37 Dialogue, for Alton . . . 139 The Seasons 139 Comforting Thoughts . . 140 Love's Offering, How often love an offering brings While busy time is on the wing. Sometimes it is a costly gift, Which gold a!one has power to lift: But often 'tis a little flower That bloomed in shady nook or bower, Or yet, perhaps, a leaf of green The first in early spring time seen. If love but prompts, whate'er the gift, 1 hough large or small it helps to lift The heart above all earthly care, And helps us each one's part to bear. If love be absent, gifts are vain", For love alone can break the chain Of coldness, selfishness and care That binds and keeps us prisoners here. This simple lay, love's offering. Is all that I can ever bring, The simple gifts, so truly mine Daily offered at the home shrine; And in return I ask you all To heed the Savior's loveing call, Accept the gift He freely gives Accept His love believe and live. Our Ship. Far away on the ocean of time A gallant barque, with a look sublime, Is bounding gaily o'er the billow. Graceful as a bending willow. Whither goeth this noble ship? As o'er the wave she gaily skips, Catching her breath at every gale, Fully expanding her widening sails. Beautiful vessel, so lovely to see, Whither goeth she over the sea? What is she laden with who can tell? Memory answers, "1 know too well." She is freighted with treasures for young aini old, Treasures that cannot be bought with gold; Love's precious gifts, and joys unsung, And sorrows' tears from sad hearts wrung: Treasures from God, so wisely given Have been returned for safe-keeping in Heaven, Her offerings she gives as she sails along, To one a tear, to another a song. How long saileth she over the sea? Till the seasons have passed to eternity: Each one laying her treasure down, Till autumn comes with golden crown, Then the snow-flakes begin to fall. Saying they are the last of all. Covering the bier of the past with a pall, Weaving a mantle of love over all. Precious garland of treasure given. But the best of all are garnered in Heaven. A wonderful thing is this gallant barque. Sailing along in the light or dark. The helm must be held by a Father's hand. His loving voice must give command. When the seasons have rolled around, And Christmas anthems again resound, U'e in our hearts begin to sigh For the days, weeks and months about to die. Tenderly, lovingly falleth our tears, For the name of our ship is the Dying Year. In Memoriam, God takes the Christian mother home, When all her work is done, Rejoice that she is victor crowned. The victory is won. Life so full of toil and pain, For mother now is o'er. A welcome she has gained Upon the other shore. Then children smile and dry your tears Forever with the Lord. The promise He has given To all who trust His word. Like her they toil and pray and wait, And patiently endure. And children's children too'shall find These promises are sure. Oh! wonderful, the entrance gained Within the pearly gate, If we could catch a single glimpse Our rapture would be great Her cup of happiness complete, Yes. more than satisfied, She waits her loved ones now to greet Upon the other side. What Shall We Do ? What shall we bring in our hands to-day, For the boys who ace In id hy thousands away From the sight of Mother and Home, so dear? And their number increases year by year; Shall we bringsweet flowers as they do to-day To deck the graves of the blue and the gray" They did not go with the sound of the drnm. With ringing of bells and music's huiri: They did not go with banners so bright, To pass from our homes like gleams of HjrKr; What shall we do for our boys, to-day, Who in sorrow and shame were laid away? Shall we shed, o'er the graves, hot scalding tears, To mark the record of passing years; And then go away to our homes again, Without a thought of the cruel pain, In the mother's heart must linger yet- For the fate of the boy she can ne'er forget? Shall we gather flowers for the blue and gray, _ And only leaves for the drunkard's grave? Say, what shall we do witlr-the passing year* So linked together with shining tears? Oh, Memory! in silence entwine, A mother's love with love divine. Then let them rest in silence too, while we live on there's work to do, To teach the boys, who live to-day, This noble truth -'Vote as you pray;" Then when God calls our boys away, We'll deck their graves with the blue and the gray. Loveing Hearts and Friends. We thank thee, Heavenly Father, For the gifts thy kindness sends. But more than all, we thank thee, For loveing hearts and friends. 'Mid scenes of joy and sorrow When clouds and sunshine blend, 'Tis then we feel the influence Of loveing hearts and friends. Grant us, our Heavenly Father, Where'er our footsteps tend, Hearts to ever praise thee, For loveiug hearts and friends Whither Bound? Whither bound, to heaven or heli? Sinner, can you, will you, tel? Forward! is our cry to-day; Sinner, will you go or stay? Come and share the joys of heaven; Sinner, will you be forgiven? Whither bound: O stop and think Ere you down to ruin sink. Jesus en IK he calls to-day; Sinner, why wi 1 you delay. Come to Jesus Christ and live, He is ready to forgive. Whither bound! Oh, hear that cry! Sinner turn, why will ye die? Hark, the voice of mercy crying, See the purple fountain flowing! Sinner, will you, will you come. And find in Jesus peace aud home. Onward to Victory. \o backward step has been taken, No retreat has ever been known': Persistently, earnestly praying, Our trust in Jehovah alone. So the years have been slowly advancing, Bach one with a story to tell Of the seed we've been steadily sowing, The record by Angels kept well. And now the God of the harvest, Who has watched o'er the seedling with care, Who has heard the faint cry of His children Who has treasured each tear-drop and prayer, Is u r jring us onward to victory, Is filling our ranks every day, With men who stand up among men, And dare to vote as they pray, So brothers and sisters stand firm, In union alone there is strength; The rallying cry is now heard Throughout our '.vhole country's length. The signal fires have been lighted, The watchword is passing along, Inspiring each heart wiih fresh courage, To fight this our nation's great wrong. Great God, give us wisdom we pray thee, And "Light" incur darkened way, May no false step e'er be taken, As onward we hasten to-day. Yes ! on, and to victory, brothers In actions do just what you say; Have faith in your efforts, my brother;*, And dare to vote as you pray ! The King's Business Ke quires Haste Haste, haste! for the Tocsin is calling; Brothers arise, for the foe is so near, That listen the sound of his footsteps Out on I he night air, so plainly we hear; Yes, he is coming: to arms then to arms! Go forth with fresh courage to meet th<* dread foe, Rememberiug, dear brother, the women arc praying, And God will be with you wherever you go. Fight, nght! for yonr home.? are in danger. And all that is dear to affection and love: Your freeman's proud heart will not deign to surrender The chains which now bind you to Heaven above; Yet the foe is now coiling the serpent around them, And gladly would tighten them now in it- folds: ^o hasten, dear brother, and work for Amend- ment, Bringing joy to fond he.-trt.s and peace to households Go with your banners and music resounding. But hold in your hand the weapon so true: A wee bit of paper, with "Yes, for Amend- ment," This place in the ballot box. bravely t<<| For the eyes of the children are watching. to-day. To see what the fathers will do, So hasten, dear brothers, the bugle is sound- ing, And calling for you, your duty to do. What Can I Do? I cannot form a star, Or make it shine, I cannot trace a flower, With tints so fine. The harp that I would bring Has broken strings. I'm like a wounded bird, That cannot fly. but, sings. There's music in my soul But oh! it discard makes Yet I never can control The echoes thai it makes. Then take this broken lyre Dear Saviour mine, And touch anew the strings With love divine. That only sad and weary ones Can hear the whispered tones. That I can sound for other Hearts, than mine alone. I would not music make For those who sweetly siqg They can their ovtjKwork do. Their offering bring, Yet I can do something Dear Lord, for thee, Wilt thou not make it plain ^ So I can see The way, and walk therein? Let me do something Some one to win To paths of virtue From paths of sin. Lena. Beautiful Lena, lying so still, Calm as a lily that floats e'er the rill, , Sweet was thy influence, lovingly felt. Oh ! how oui' hearts now in tenderness melt We know thy spirit has flov^n away home, Where neither sorrow or sickness can come. Patiently waiting, months passed away, But peace, like a halo, o'er thy quiet face lay; Thy lieart was at rest, thy peace made with God, In quiet submission the valley you trod; The Saviour was with thee, hia hands o'er thee spread, Kept from thee all doubting, darkness and dread. "My peace like a river" flowed into thy soul, Keeping the deep waters under control. Causing thy heart to be glad and rejoice While waiting to hear thy messenger's voice; But first God took baby sister away, While you tarried here another short day. She uttered a prayer, then triumphantly said : 'I see, dearest sister, bright forms 'round my bed, An angel i s here with the baby I love, Will you meet me, I' m going to heaven above.'' The Savior himself stood loveingly by, While she breathed forth her life without even a sigh. Distant Murmurs. Hark! what is that sound? Borne on the southern breeze. List to its echoes now, Breathing through orange trees. 'Tis the voice of loved ones Gone from us afar, To fight for our freedom, Our stripes and our stars. Oh, many a heart string Is vibrating now. And throbbing with anguish For loved ones laid low. And many a hearth-stone Is dreary and lone, For husband and father Friends brothers are gone. Potomac's bright waters Flow gently along. Not deigning to chant A funeral song, For the brave ones who fought And bled by her side, For the brave of our land Our brothers who-died . A low murmur comes From mountain and sea From far distant hill-tops From wild Tennessee. "Tis a murmur of sorrow, 'Tis liberty's moan, Oh God save our country For freedom, they groan. Whence corueth that sound Now flung to the breeze From cities and towns Through tall forest trees? "J'is the voice of the people Now shouting aloud, Three cheers for Abe Lincoln The honest and good !, Lullaby, The sunlight is fading, The night's coming on, The shadows are falling, The daylight is gone. Hushaby, hushaby, sink into sleep; Angels around thee their kind vigils keep! Thy feet have been running So swiftly all day, Like summer clouds chasing Each other away. Hushaby, hushaby, baby so sweet, Till morning hours hasten our darling to greet. God's blessing attend thee, And guard thee from harm; His arm to defend thee, No fears need alarm. Hushaby, hushaby, angels shall keep Watch o'r my little one sleep, gently sleep. 16 The Open Gate to the Twentieth Century, Sisters, see the warning light, As the years pass from our sight: "Tis a century's dying gleam. Passing from us like a stream Of golden sunlight, bright And beautiful with deeds of right; All the clouds have rolled awav. See the dawn of coming day. Grant us courage, Lord, to wait To see the century ope its gate; Let us riot falter by the way, But lead us to victory day by day; That cry new heard on every hand, For God and home and native land 1 : Our work of love so world-renowned, Will then by God be glory crowned. Hear the sound of little feet! Hear the songs of joy that greet! Babyhood stands here to-day, Asking us to clear the way For their tender feet to tread Whereso'er our feet have led: For the children now'we plead. Help us, Lord, to gent'y lead. Then when victory shall be ours, "When with songs and blooming flowers We shall celebrate the day, That for which we toil and pray, Children's children then shall lead, This will be joy indeed; And their thoughts will often be, Grandma prayed for victory. Onward move with tears and pain, For our toil is not in vain; Ye that labor in the Lord, Shall receive a just reward; Fourteen years how short the time! Brother haste, fall into line; Sister do not fail to see The dawning of a century. LAIXGSBUBG, July 30th, 1886. Spring, Spring has come! I feel its breath Touching every living thing, Waking as if from sleep of death, Heart and voice with gladness sing. 0, I love the merry spring, With its beauties ever new, And the tiny blades of grass Richly gemmed with morning dew; And the little sparkling rills, Murmuring sweetly as they flow These I love and sloping hills, W r here bright golden blossoms groAV. I love the shady woodland dell Where grows the bright forget-me-not- In whispers soft it seems to say, lister, thou'rt not forgot. There the humble violet blooms, And the lilly of the valley These all in gentle accents teach A lesson of humility. 18 ^ ^ Bain. Welcome, welcome, gentle rain We have waited long in vain For thy cool refresh ing^showers, To revive the drooping flowers. Greatfully our thoughts arise For this favor from the skies; (.'an it be that angels weep, Or comes it from the mighty deep. . We will not the mystery solve, But gladry let our thoughts revolve Around the source of every good And perfect gift bestowed. .Then, patter, patter, gentle rain, We love to hear thy soothing strain, The tender grass, flowers, fruit and grain. All gladly welcome thee again. A Koyal Gift, Cold water, cold water, the gift of a King, Why may we not drink it, be happy and sing'.' It gives pleasure to youth, and also lo age, We read of its fame on every fair page. Cold water, cold water, the^gift of a King, Let us all drink it be happy and sing. It gleams bright with joy, and healing it brings, Our voices will tune, and its praise we will sing- Ever grateful to thee, our Father above, For giving so freely this gift of thy love. Oold water, cold water, the gift of a King, Let us all drink it be happy and sing. .^o freely the stream of salvation is flowing For all who will drink of its life-giving spring: It flows to all nations, 'tis flowing for thee. Ami it reaches far out to the isles of the sea. The water of life the t.ift of a^ King, Let us all drink ity be happy and sing. The Oup of Life, Is this thy loving hand That holds life's cup: Shall I, the erring one, Drink it all up? I see beneath its depths Sparkles of joy am' And happiness on earth Akin to that above. Rainbow hues of mercy Blend their colors bright. But ah, within its depths I see the hue of night. Father shall I refuse To take this oup And with thy strength'ning hand Drink it all up? Help me each passing hour Firmly to stand And hold life's mingled cup With steady hand. We know a Father's hand Fills to the brim With what is best for us Then trust in him. In Memory of the Heroic Dead, *-- Scatter the flowers over the graves Of our true and brave-hearted dead, The grass of the valley over them w:r, Bright with the beams the morning sun shed : Ve>, scatter the blossoms, emblems <~,f love. Felt for the casket enshrined in the tomb, The jewel is safe with its Maker above, While we walk alone 'mid shadows and gloom. Lightly, tread lightly, over the dead. And scatter the flowers hands of lo*e have prepared, God will treasure the tears you silently shed, For by Him all our feelings of sorrow are shared: In mercy we know our cup oft is filled, The bitter and sweet eft mingling in one If God holds the cup, not one drop is spilled, For in love He chastens his soi rowing ones. God grant that our nation'Tiever ajain May call for her sons o'er mountain and strand. To fight for our freedom, our victories to gain, And lay down their lives for our dear native land; Peace reigns in our borders in peace with the world. In union with all may our nation long dwell, May our banner now rolled be never unfurled, Except over wrong, our triumph to tell. Treasures of Earth. Tiny little treasures, God has to us given, Precious little gems, Brighten them for Heaven; Sweetest little buds, Gently ope their leaves And rear the little flowerets, To deck the Master's sheaves. Stars of hope and beauty. Shining in our home, Little rays of sunlight, Making light the gloom; dew drops bright and pearly, Keeping fresh our love, Jewels that may glisten In our crowns above. Who will buy these treasures? No buyer need 10 come With miseis horaded measurs Or all the wealth of Rome; For only can the angels Come and carry them away. To dwell with Jesus ever In happiness alway. 22 Our Harvest Song. Tune, "Wait for ihe wagon." Come, thrust in now the sickle, The grain is ripeninjr t:i>-t, The summer sun is shining, And sleeping is the hla-t. Come, hast thee, noble farmer, And gird thee for the toil, God smileth on your 1 ihnrs Fruit springeth from the soil. CHonrs Work for the harvest, work for the harvest, Work for the harvest, all ye sons of toil. The golden grain is waving, How lov< ly 'tis to see; How glorious are these summer gifts God giveth unto thee: Then gird thee for the harvest, Nor think the day too 1 >ni, But cheeifully and pleasantly Oft cheer your toil with sng. Work for the harvest, &c. Go work ye in my vineyard, The Master calls to-day The fields are now whitening, No longer then delay; For soon the Master cometh To gather in the sheaves. And pluck the ripening clusters From 'mid the fal ing leaves, Work for the harvest. &c. We think we see the dawning Of that bright, glorious day, When all life's golden harvests Are safely stowed away; Angels shall join the chorus, Of that glad, "welcome home," Where heavenly joys are wailing The harvesters to come. Work for the harvest, &c- Thanksgiving Song. O how the hymn we raise Filled with a nation's praise, Our notes prolong. With one united voice Let all our hearts rejoice, Author of all our joys, Accept our song. The harvest sun has smiled, The hand of God has filled With gifts of love. We thank thee for thy Son, Our Savior, king in one, The victory he has won He reigns above. Our banners now are furled In peace with all the world Our nation stands. Long may our eagle s flight All glorius and bright, '* Be on the side of right God bless our land ! 2* Fifty Tears Ago, Fifty years asro to-dny, Love stretched her wand and showed (he way Tlmt you should walk through life together, 'Til death those bonds of love should sever. You gaily walked a-down life's path () re fields of joy with many a laugh At thorns and cares, that checked thy way, Yet brought you to this Golden day. Fifty years of joy and sorrows, Lo. king towards the gUrt to-morrows, Thnt ever comes to hopeful s^uls J*P surely as ihe sea wave rolls From shore to sbnre so you With flowers of Hope and Love 80 true. Have patiently toiled along the way, And lived to see this Golden day. Fifty years have passed awny, And many mile-stones by the way Have marked the eras of wood and tin, And where the silver age begins, But now you've reached the golden stage. Fi led with histories of life's fair page; Pure as crystal may the memories be, Thrilling your hearts with their melody. Fifty years no children then, Now they number only twelve, Grown to man and womanhood, *Nobly through life's storms have stood, But on this eventful day Their children -'round thy armchair play, O're the past a shadow rests, Three are numbered with the blest. Oh Golden day! Oh! Golden year. Rich the treasures that you bear, Not golden gifts alone we bring, But children's voices sweetly sing The thoughts our lips refuse to tell, With gratitude our bosoma swell To God the giver of all good, Who by your side has ever stood. And still will lead 'til one by one You pass away your work well done* Then on that bright and Golden shfire Where loved ones meet to part no more. This happy group again you'll find, For love each golden link will bind; Eternity alone will tell, Your record "All is well." Grandma's Christmas Song, Children henr the merry bells Ringing over hill and dell Telling us of Jesus; Telling us the story old, Once by happy angels told, Of the infant Jesus. Bring your gifts and join the chorus, Bring a wreath of love to Jesus; Give your hearts to Jesus, Praise him, love him, serve him too This the work for you to do, Work for loving Jesus, 26 ^ Go Work in My Vineyard, Ln borers of Christ, arise ! And j>ird thee for the toil, Look ye upon the field. All ready is the soil, fio scatter forth the seed, In every favored spot: Let not the distant corners Of the vineyard be forgot, Faint -hearted, weary, worker, No longer drooping go. Renew your strength in God. Arise, begin to sow; Untold the snowy napkin From talents hidden there, Go use them f >r the Master, Within his garden fair. When the dews of early morning, Silently, softly, weep, Or evening.s gentle zephyrs Lull the bright flowers to sleep, Still labor for thy Master; Earnestly toil and wait; lh en gather thy bundle of sheaves To lay at the Master's gate. For. soon the angel reapers, Will gather the harvest, home, And songs of joy will welcome The weary ones 10 come. Go forth; the Mater calleth, Go: for the field is white, Go: for the willing worker Is well pleasing in his sight, 27 Coming. The glorirous time is coming When Christ the king of kings, Shall with the holy angels Make the whole welkin rin?; For Christ our Lnrd is coming, The victory Fie has won, And now as king in glory He'll sit upon His throne. Our glorious king is coming, Coming with pomp and power, Coming with the holy angels, We may see Him any hour The signs of prophecy are ending, Yes, the latter day is near; Christian, is your lamp now burning For the bridegroom to appear? r Yes, our dearest Lord is coming, \Joming as he went above So in clouds of light drcending, He will welcome those He loves Will you give a joyous welcome To this Christ our Lord and King, Will you with the angelic chorus, Notes of victory sweeny sing ? Then remember now 'tis dawning That blest time for which we wait Labor on 'til His appearing, Toiling early toiling late, Then when're the trumpet soundeth, Though it call for you to come. You can give a joyous welcome To the sound that calls you home. In Memoriam. The young and the gifted Must pass from oar earth, For God would give them A far higher birth; In that land where all Is lovely and bright, And no torturing pain The spirit can blight. Where the mind can expand And the fancy take flight. And revel in wonder Amid realms of light; And the voice with angels Keeps ever in tue. For the heart will keep young Where 'tis always noon. Shed tears, then, dear mother. For thy gifted boy; But let not thy grief Thy peace destroy. Look upward to Jesus, 0, children of God ! Keep close to His side, Passing under the rod. O, the wonderful meeting Of loved ones in heaven, When all of earth's ties By God have been riven! Be patient, then, dear ones. For soon it will come, The thrice welcome signal That calleth us home. Willing Workers, IIo ! workers in Christ's vineyard. Prepare the soil to-day, Well water it with tears, And dont forget to pray. For soon the Master cometh, His laborers to review, According to thy labor Thy wages will be due. But if you longer tarry And loiter by the way Until the golden sunlight Shall shed its lingering ray Upon the pile of sheaves By other reapers brought, While ihou, Oh! trembing soul Hath toiled for naught. What wouldst thou do Oh, christain, If the Master then should come And sound the well-known signal Of welcome harvest home ? When each will give his record Of good he has done here; Wilt thou stand idly sighing, Thy record only tears ? Up, up, then Christian worker, E're it be too late To gather a bundle of sheaves To lay at the Master's gate. Faint, yet still persuing, Let this our motto be Wherever the Master calls A willing worker be. Song oThe Autumn Leaves. List to the song of the autumn leaves As they fall at the touch of the evening breeze; 'Tis the saddest songoftheyearthey sing, Telling us time is on the wing; That swiftly passeth the summer hours. The wild bird's song, the blooming flowers And the song of the leaves as they softly fall, Tell us that winter will come to us all; The song of the leaves as they fall to the ground Tell us in a soft and melancholy sound That spring time is gone and summer in ended, The crimson and gold with brown are blended; Then roses bloomed on the garden walks. Now naught is there but withered stalks: List to the song which the leaflets sing, Up yonder, 'twill be eternal spring; Beneath the leaf a germ is hidden, A new life starts from its stem unbidden, The dead leaf falls and the new leaf comes Bidding us hope for eternal bloom; Within us lives an immortal part, Filling the casket with soul and heart; A life giving impulse to us is given, It thrills with the thought we shall live in heaven. Life let us enjoy through winter and spring Cheering our lives with the song \\e sing: Like the leaf let us do our own little part, And send the blood tingling to some sor- rowing heart, Making them grow and thrive like the trees So we in our turn may be ministering leaves; Then the song of the leaves as th ey gently Fall, Will sing only of hope and joy to us all. The Rose of Prohibition. Higher, Higher let us climb, Up to yonder hights sublime, For our cause, oh, God is thine, The cause of Prohibition. Like the Alpine traveler da -e To reach the Edeileiss so r re, Who would not this fiowei t wear? The rose of Prohibit )n. Purity and hope we see, Emblem, God, of life in th e; Help us to gain the victor -, The seige of Prohibition. Grasp the tiny floweret tight, Tie with ribbon purest white. Thus the W. C. T. U. unite With final Prohibiton. 32 The Rift In The Clouds, So long the clouds of sorrow H;is darkened all our land, Shading o'er the sunlight Of many household bands. So long the cry of anguish Has filled our hearts with grief As woman's cry and infant's moan Appealed for sweet relief, Our hearts and eyes are heavy, We cannot see the light, Although between the cloudlets There is a rift so bright. Help us Oh! God of heaven To see the coming dawn; Cheer up desponding hearts So weary and forlorn. Help us to watch for signals Of victory, in the air Helpus to pray with courage, Help us to do and dare. For God; the God of victory Is leading on the hosts Of temperance men and^w.oraen Our country's pride a'nd boast. Once more the cry of battle Falls on our ears to-day, Go forth, ye Christian manhood, Vote for our homes, we pray. Let not the evil conquor Clasp brothers hands to-day Unitedly to labor Till right shall win the day. The women still are praying With hearts filled with delight For Oh! we see amid the clouds A little rift, so bright. "Abba Father." "Abba Father," hear my c;y, Let me feel thee ever nigh, Feel thy loving arms entwining: Feel thy hand forever guiding. Fa'her, let me be thy child, M^ke me humble, pure and mild. Heavenly Father, take thy child Out of sin's dark, drearj wild: We, alas; our sins confessing, Would receive thy fullest blessing. Love, and peace, and joy divine. Would be Lord, entirely thine, "Abba Father,'' sweet the thought. By the blood of Jesus bought, Love divine all love excelling: We thy gift of love receiving Would thy happy children be Here and through Eternity. A Winter Scene, Jack frost has been out Or a frolic all night, A IK lo! what a change Biings the morning light; The trees are all covered "W it h a net work so bright. Thty quiver and laugh ( 'er their new found delight; F om each crispy stem Hangs a sparkling gem, A bright as the stars; In night's diadem < 'an we find any trace Of sadness here? Prom each glistening leaf Falls a silent tear; But hark! notes of joy Now fall on my ear, Tis the robin rejoicing Tha.t spring is so near; Jack Frost's nimble -fingers Must hasten to weave These bright scenes of joy That no traces leave; But, spring, welcome spring, Her sweet balmy breath, Bequeaths to the flowers A perfume in death; So farewell chilly winter Thy pleasures decay; Fit emblem of life, It is fading away. ''I am weary of waiting," Said an aged, dying one, "1 am weary of waiting For Jesus to come. I am treading the valley. But Oh! not alone, For Jesus is leading me Safe to ray home. >V I am weary of waiting So long seems the way The messenger tarrieth Oh! why the delay? 1 am weary of watching The shadows at play, I long for the sunlight Of Heaven's pure day. "I long to be praising In raptures so sweet i am longingly waiting The summons to meet. I long to be resting At Jesus' feet, Forevermore joining In anthems so sweet. "'I long to be standing Near the Golden Throne. And feeling at last I am really at home. There, crowning my Saviour With glory, alone, Singing praise -forever At "home, sweet home." A Child's Faith in Jesus. 1 cannot go to Sabbath school To sing with them today, For the angels they are beckoning And calling me away. I know 'tis Jesus calling i:'in not afraid to go For you know you told me mother That Jt sus loved me so. Then tell my little schoolmates. I cannot come today To join their festive pleasures So happy, blithe and gay, But tell them "I love Jesus To Him I'll surely go," For you know you told me mother That Jesus loved me so. The Summer Land, A mother told her story Of the treasures God had given; Two had grown to manhood, Two had gone to heaven, In the Summer Land. 'Twas right," she said, "the Saviour Had carried them away; In fairest, greenest pastures, Forever they will stay, In the Summer Land." Oh, who can tell the glory That breaks upon their sight What hights and depths of knowledge Shall fill them with delight, In the Summer Land. We lisannot speak the measure, Of peace and love they feel; We cannot speak the wonder Of joys that o'er them steal. In the Summer Land. Yes, they gaze upon the Saviour, Beauties they have not known Shall fill their souls with rapture; In him is heaven alone, In the Summer Land. There we shall meet our loved ones, Here we must patiently wait, Gntil, with joy, they greet us At heaven's open gate, Ih the Summer Land. 38 Fifty 11 Years Ago. Fifty years ago to-day. Love stretched her wand and showed tlu- way. That you should walk through life to- gether, 'Til death those bonds of love should sever. You gaily walked a-down life's path. O'er fields of jo,y with many a laugh; At thorns and cares, that checked the way Yet, brought you to this Golden day. Fifty years of joys and sorrows. Looking towards the glad to-morrows. That ever comes to hopeful souls; As surely a the sea wave rolls From shore to shore so you With flowers of Hope and Love so tru*-, Have patiently toiled along the way. And lived to see this Golden day. Fifty years have passed away, And many mile-stones by the way Have marked the eras of wood and tin. And where the silver age -begins. But now you've reached the golden stag*- Filled with histories of life's fair page; Pure as crystal may the memories IH\ Thrilling your hearts with their melody. Fifty years no children then, Now they number only twelve, Grown to man and womanhood, Nobly through life's storms have stood. But on this eventful day Their children 'round thy armchair play: _ 39 O'er the past a shadow rests, Three are numbered with the blest. Oh Golden day! Oh, Golden year, Rich the treasures that you bear, Not golden gifts alone we bring, But children's voices sweetly sing The thoughts our lips refuse to tell, With gratitude our bosoms swell To God the giver of all good, Who by your side has ever stood. And still will lead 'til one by one You pass away your work well done, Then on that bright and Golden shore, Where loved ones meet to part no more, This happy group ch For love each golden link will bind, Eternity alone will tell, Your record ''All is well." 40 Victory Over Death. Gently fades the setting sun, Another Sabbath day is gone; Twilight deepens into gloom, Silence reigns within the room, For the angels-near are hovering, And a mother dear is dying, She is almost home. "Yes. I know I'm going home, And the angels soon will come. Yes, I hear the chariot wheel, And the chill of death I feel. My feet have touched the narrow stream. Oh, how short the journey seems I am nearer home." ''Oh, why tamest thou my Lord? I have trusted in thy word, Even in my childhood's years I mourned for sin with bitter tears; Jesus I love thee; stand by me, Through death itself my refuge be, Come take me home". "Jesus, I'm coming, coining, come; Dear angels take me home; The pea.rly gates I soon shall see, The tree of life now blooms for me, Fountains of love for me are flowing. Over the river soon I'm going, Y r es, I'm going home/'. "Father, Mother, Alice wait, I soon shall see the open gate, Sister and neighbors don't forget The friend you loved; without regret 41 1 bid my husband, children dear, A kind farewell, without a tear. Happy, happy home." u Soon the struggle will be o'er! Soon I'll reach the other shore, Angel voices now are praising, Sing, my friends, the echo raising, Jesus, with ray latest breath, I'll shout Victory over Death. Home, yes, sweet, sweet honu Tennie, Many years have passd away, Since Tennie drooped and died. And yet it seems but yesterday, We laid her by the side. Of her aarling little one; Who just awhile before, Upon an angel's bosom Entered the open door. How beautiful the morning, How brightly shone the sun ; When Tennie said, "Im going, My earthly work is done, How long 1 have been waiting. Slowly wasting away; Waiting to hear the summons, 'Come child from earth away.' " E'en than the light of Hearveu Shone bright upon her brow. She felt her sins forgiven, She loved her savior now. 42 Then turning to the man of God, Who silently sat there, She simply murmured "pray." And solemn was the prayer. 'Only one crossing now, mother, Then I'll enter the open door, And see my own sweet darling, And the loved ones gone before" When w r ith brightly beaming eye, And gently waning breath, She passed away so silently, How blessed such a death. So trustingly she waited With faith's bright beaming eye; "Don't cry," she said, "dear mama, I'm not afraid to die, And oh, mama, how sweet the thought, The door is open wide, And I can quickly enter in Upon the other side," A Living Scroll. I .shall be there to make up the scroll. When the Lord shall call for his o\vn: I shall answer the roll call of Heaven, When Jesus shall sit on his throne. For Jesus has written my name, So plain on the palm of his hand; And Jesus will know me I'm sure, When among the white robed I stand Then sing children, louder to me As I pass o'er the flowing tide! Perhaps I shall hear the echo As I walk on the other side. Where the loved ones now are gathmnjr, I hear their welcome tone; They make me feel their presence, I know I'm not alone. Sing: "We shall gather at the river, "Other refuge have I none; "I shall shine as the stars forever, "I will wait till my change come." Thus sang and talked our mother, While we stood weeping by; Then she asked us to sing together, "Pass me not," and "Sweet bye ,-unl bye." When she called for Nora and Viva, Prayed God to bless her boys! Told them to remember children, And gave them words of joy. Clasped the hand of loving sisters, Took a farewell look of home; Then again was heard the whisper, I can wait! The Lord had come. Suffer Them to Come, How kindly in his arms The little ones he took; , He pressed them to his heart And words of kindness spoke. While proud men stood around, And wise ones questions asked, Nor ever stopped to think That he was overtasked. .Still when the trembling mother Brought her little ones from home, He kindly on her smiled, Baying "Suffer them to come." [f Jesus when on earth And burdened with our sin, Could open wide his arms And clasp the children in, Shall we stand coldly by, With ne'er a word of love, To cheer them on the road, That leads to joy above? Rather let us welcome them To share our heavenly home, And tell them of the Savior's words, Saying "Suffer them to come." Jtp He Giveth His Beloved, Sleep, A t evening when her work was done, She dropped her earthly dress; Trusting alone in Jesus' blood. And his own righteousness; Then closed her eyes in slumber sweet. To wake at early dawn And hear the welcome summons. Come, weary child, come home. Surely the message never came To one so glad to go; Her cup was filled with bitterness. As well as deepest woe; Patiently she bore it all, Trusting a Father's hand Would lead and guide the weary iV.-r To our Emanuel's land. Sleep 011, beloved one, sleep on, No earthly sound shall wake. Or mar the quiet rest Thy suffering body takes. Thy spirit also rests Upon the Savior's breast: Oh, may we meet above, And be forever blest. Not a Song nor a Story We wrote a rhyme, a jingling thing, About the startling points of spring. Wherein we spoke of what we loved. And what, perhaps, our anger moved. 'Twas not a song our modest pen Places such things, above our ken; 'Twas just a puff of empty air. Born of a thought and perished there. But. ah! how oft an idle thought, Expressed in words, has mischiel' wrought; So ours called out a sharp reproof, Which, while we answer stand aloof. Spring aru't a maid its of the year A part, which brings the summer here: And though it has its pleasant features. Ft is filled with the most disgusting creatures. And yet, forsooth, if one can't see A heaven within a lilac tree; Fly into raptures over flowers, Or dwell in amaranthine bowers; Or hear the sighs and sobs of spring. That timid, tearful rt^ajd poor thing: Why, he's a vain and foolish man, And wont act pretty when he can. Now. if our love for flowers prevails, '^ And we but loath toads, snakes and snails. Why should we quarrel with the man Who cant love roses as we can? Was not the frog and flea and flower All made by one creative power? Then judge not, lest, alas you be Found wanting quite as much as he. Be Brave. "Sisters, be brave." a sweet voice said. While lying on her dying bed; "Sisters, be brave, and dare to do The work I long have wished to do." These words were uttered far away, Where daylight holds so long its sway; Far, far above these mountain tops When evening comes, the daylight drops. Far up above these rocky heights A city stands, whose twinkling lights Tell of thousands toiling there, Exposed to sin's most wily snare. For these she wrought, and nobly died, While we stood firmly at her side, Doing her bidding; thus she led Until we saw her lying dead. How deep the grief of husband, daughter; How great the love of all who knew her, But none more faithful kind and true, Than sisters of the C. T. U. Ring out the words, than, o'er the land: To every W. C. T. U. band: ''Sisters, be brave, and strive to do The work I now must leave to you." Old. Year Farewell. Old year, farewell! Thy work is done: One hour alone remains For thee to tell thy tale; but one But one alone remains. On silent wings thy hours have flown. So richly freighted o'er; Memory, kindest friend alone, Can cull its sweetest flowers, And lay them fresh and green away To cheer our hearts another dny. Old year, farewell! Thy race is run. And ere another sun Shall brighten up the coming dawn. The new r will be begun. Thy fondest smiles thy sweetest tori^ Mingled with sorrow's tears. On Memory's tablet, there alone, Laid by for future years, Will come unsought some other day. To tell us what has passed away. Old year, farewell ! Thy tolling bell Will soon in solemn tones Proclaim thy funeral knell Thou wilt, alas, b'e gone. Earth's loved ones only linger here Till their short work is done; Then why should thou, old dying year. Sigh to leave us alone? We too will soon be called away. To spend a long, eternal day. Old year, farewell! The minutes haste. Quickly thy fleeting breath Tell us the end is near; at last, 'Tis gone; can this be death? Farewell ! I fain would linger here To breathe a silent prayer ! He thou, 0, God, our guide this year- Shield us from every snare, He thou our hope make bright our com- ing day, 'Til earthly scenes with us have passed away. Waiting For Spring. The cold winds of winter Have tarried so long, We are weary of waiting For the spring to come; The winds have been sighing A requiem low, Over the winter And frosts as they go. How gladly we hail The first breathing of Spring, And list to the bird notes Of joy as they sing; Hoping still hoping The flowers will come, To gladden and brigh ten Our earthly home. The winter of life, Ah! soon 'twill be gone, The spring time of glory Then surely will come. There blossoms of love Will eternally spring, And glad songs of praise Forever will sing. 50 The Blessed Dead. They died at their post, how noblv thev fell The record here given its story will tell. They through the heat and burden of day. * Yet cheerfully worked-^- not forgetting to pray That God who unseen is watch ing o'er all Would hear their request, and the seed as it falls, Has been watched o'er and cared for by angel hands, Who do at his bidding the work he com- mands, Through trial and pain they have finished their toil And deep are the furrows prepared in its soil. The tears they shed the seed they have sown And their labors, the Master surely will own. The deeds they've done the words they have spoken, Form a link in our history ne'er to be broken. Their children still live, and by services done Prove that faith doth descend from fath- er to son. An influence felt, though by us unseen Keeps their love in our hearts and their memories green, May their mantle of toil rest upon all And their charity cover us each like a pall. Hiding' the faults wlricli in each we shall find, Keeping the golden rule ever in mind, Children of God go work, pray and wait Ever keeping a bundle of sheaves at his gate Who when the Master shall open the door Our labors shall have gone on before, When he shall say the race ye have run Accept ye the crown the victory won. Dollie, An old gray mare owned by Rev. James McLeod,for over nineteen years, was shot as an act of mercy to old age being 22 years old. She had traveled thousands of miles to meetings, weddings and funer- als. Faithful "Dollie" goes not to her grave un-sung: A faithful servant's work is done, No more beneath the burning sun, Or cruel storm, with solemn tread She'll load the pathway of the dead. No more with cheerful, gentle neigh , Stop at each school house by the way; The snow falls silently over her grave Where the summer grass will gracefully wave. Still, all through the winter and sum- mer of life, Although weary with toil and worldly strife, Kind memories of thee will cling to us as yet; Thy faithfulness, Dollie, we'll never for- get. A Story Or Spring's Appology. \V<> sing 1 of Spring, her presence to woo, Little thinking, alas, the mischief we'd do; For Spring, timid maiden, shrank back in disgrace. And for many a day would not show her face; lint thinking the bright side of things the best, She smiled through her tears, then with still greater zest The sun brightly shone so loving and warm, That winter, stern winter, fled away in alarm. .Vow Spring, tickle maiden, is here once again. And myriad voices from hillside and plain. f.n their fullness of joy, sounds forth notes of praise, But vain, foolish man has no song to raise In token of love, to the Creator of all, Who seese'en a sparrow, tho' gently it fall! Shall we, then, his creatures, refuse thus to sing, And express our delight -at thy coming, 0, Spring? Though long I have waited, I come with good cheer, And promise and plenty throughout the long year; I am weaving bright garlands hill and valley around, A nd blossoms are scattered all over the ground. My work I am doing, though silent and slow Then keep faithfully sowing, in time it will grow; And when summer has come and spring work is done, Your hearts will rejoice at the harvest begUB, Home, Cozily nestling under the shade Of the tall old forest trees, Where the su u be a.ms bright Chase the shades of night, And the green leaves dance In the summer breeze. Brightly the glancing moonbeams quiver, And the sky lamps twinkling shine, But no more bright Ai-e the stars of night Th in one casket of gems In this home of mine. Happily then in this home of ours, Time's wing richly Weighted with joys Our heart's burden light, No shadow of niffht Can mar our peace Or our pleasures alloy. Joyfully let us life's chaplet weave A garland tinged o'er with love; If earth yields such sweets Oh, what rapture complete Will be ours, when we meet, In yon bright home above. 54 The Story of the Bells. Merrily jingle the bells to-day, Ringing a silvery wedding lay, For 25 years have passed away Since first they rang on a wedding day. Since first love joined your hearts to- gether, And welded them well they have clung together Through all kinds of scenes, and wintry weather, Never to part on earth no, never. Love has brightened your daily path, And children are sitting around.yonr hearth Making home happy with joyous laugh. Voices of song and careless mirth. But oh! I hear through the silvery tone The bell is ringing, a saddened moan; For a chair is sitting all alone; You mourn a lovely daughter gone. The years have gone, another bell Sounds on one's ears, a funeral knell, Our father lies in silence there. Oh! God of heaven, our burdens bear. Help us to hear the tolling bell Of time. Its story tells Of heaven where we may dwell Of God, who doeth all things well. 55 The Bells of Time, Merrily jingle the bells of time, Our footsteps keeping perfect time, As onward we move each day and hour, Constantly guarded by heavenly power, Unseen angels around us shine * With heavenly music keeping time. While we listen in vain to hear The music of the moving spheres, We only hear the bells of time That with joy and sorrow perfectly rhyme, And touch our hearts with keenest smart, Or make them thrill with joyous dart. We listen with joy to Sabbath bells, And christmas-tide with joyous swells, But sadness sits upon each brow; The funeral bell is tolling now. Oh! could we hear those bells of time. And submissively bow to the will divine, That causes to vibrate every tone And make the harmony his own. Can you not trust him, dearest friend, Who causes all those sounds to blend, And watches o'er us constantly, Mere atoms of humanity? So when his touch but jars our hearts t Causing the bitter tear to start, Because he saw it good to mo/e Some object of our dearest love As Nellie, who, in the midst of play, Silently passed from earth away. Let us listen to hear the call, Coming, sooner or later, to us all. My Work for Jesus, Is there no work for me Within thy vineyard. Lord? Do I not often feel My inmost spirit stirred? As listening I bear thy voice. Go work, my child, to-day " But doubtingly I stand, Still failing to obey. Why is it that my eyes Seem darkened blind- Can it, dear Lord, be true, That I no work can find? No wreath for me to twine To deck thy brow, No sheaf for me to bind, Down at thy feet to throw. Some silent work to do, Unseen except by thee Who watches o'er the deed, Expecting fruit from me. Oh, yes; I'll gather leaves Wherever they are blown And twine them into wreaths To cheer some weary one. I'll work in hidden corners Ruth-like I can glean The falling stalks of grain By others left unseen. I'll search among the vines; Clusters lie under the leaves; This offering 1 can bring, While others bind the sheaves. I'll whisper words of love, A silent influence lend; 57 And kindly acts perform, For enemies or friends. I'll tune my voice to notes Of sweetest song To praise thee, as I live And labor on. But if my voice is silent, And unstrung my lute, I'll make my thoughts and pen A willing substitute In winning souls to Christ, In service, Lord, for thee, These living sheaves be thine Throughout eternity. Spring Beauties. The birds have come From their leafy homes In the sunny south far away; And cheerily singing The trees among So happy, and blithe, and gay. Snowy white blooms. Tell of fruitage to come, Hiding away 'neath the green. Silently bursting, Leaf buds unclosing, Blossoms of beauty are seen. 58 Lost and Found. Fair were Eden's bowers, Before the blight of sin Had touched the human heart. And left its sting within. A jewel from our hearts In Eden then was lost, And we, in sin's dark hour, Were tempest tossed. For years the loss was felt, The world was drunk with sin; And righteousness and peace Dwelt not the heart within. E'en mercy shrank away, But ever hovered near; To save the world some day From ruin and despair. For God is the God of truth, His word can never fail And justice over all The earth prevails. His love to us so great, He sent his only son, To expiate for crimes A sinful world had done. A wicked, cruel death, He suffered on the tree, Then filled a new-made tomb, And rose triumphantly. Oh! mira-cle of morcy! That e'er such love was given To save our sinful race And make us heirs of heaven. Oh! precious, precious thought: Our sins are all forgiven; We can enjoy on earth A foretaste e'en of heaven. 59 Oh! miracle of wonder, In yonder fountain's light, The jewel lost in Eden, Is shining clear and bright. So pure and bright it shines, Cleansed from all earthly stain, Emblem of the human heart, Made pure and \\ hite again. Oh! wondrous story of his love, Now to all nations given, The jewel lost on earth Was treasured up in heaven. Where Oh! Where? Where, oh, where, when my dying breath Ebbs away in the gasps of death , Where, oh, where, shall my spirit go, To endless joy, or ceaseless woe? How beautiful now is life to me. Thy glory, God, in all I see. My heart is bound with cords of love Reaching up to realms above. Fain would I enjoy life's scenes, But light beyond o'er my spirit beams. Something tells me that far away Is a home where darkness never stays. Within the bible precious thought. Are words by inspiration wrought; Telling of Heaven home of the blest- There, oh, there, shall ray spirit rest. Father gently lead me along; Prayer in my heart; on my lips a song; Blessed assurance, God's word tells To the dying soul, "All is well." 6< L Our Past and Future. * A night of darkness is passing away, I see the glimmer of coming dav; So dreary and dark, so cold has it been, No ray of sunlight the shadows between, Yet all the time I've been waiting at home Wishing the morning of joy would come. Startling with fear, and an unknown dread Wishing I were but asleep with the dead. Craving the sympathy felt but not heard, weary and sad, like some pinioned bird, Over the waves of life's dark sea, Longing to spread its wings and be free. Has there been in the darkness no ray of hope, Nothing to make us glad and look up? Have the years flown by on noiseless wings Widening the light with their shadowings, Through the air heard no lingering sound; Oh, ves; many an echo has true love found Within our home wreath many a blossom Burst from the leaflets and slept in our bosom. Shedding a fragrance of love around, Filling the air with jubilant sound. Think not that the years flitting silently by Have left on the scroll no name; but a sigh. The sky of our future is gemmed with stars. And the rainbow of hope is studded with flowers. we'll think of the past, but with no re- pining, Remembering each cloud had a silver lining. Long may our home bark sail smoothly along. With hope for our anchor and love for our song; Shunning the rocks that endanger the way, Asking a blessing from God each day; Folding the lambs of the fold in our arms, Shielding them all from satan's alarms. Safely at last on yonder bright shore. Each life-boat be moored to sail no morn. Our Easter Lilly, A pure white lily, Lord we bring, It is our Easter offering. Its fragrance rare has filled our homo. But now, dear Lord, we humbly coiw And lay it at thy feet. In silence, Lord, we breathe our lay; Our flowers are wet with tears to-day, We know thy chastening hand in love Has taken our pure gift above, Our lily pure and sweet. Help us to say thy will be done, While traveling here on earth alone. And let our Easter anthem rise, As loving incense to the skies, Our lily fair to greet. I Am Thinking Of Thee. I am thinking 1 of thee, my boy, to-night, O-n that distant mountain, where The pure white snow in the pale moon- light, Mirrors back the dark .shadows there; Thy home is on the mountain side 'Neath the music of the waterfall, Where the rude wind blows the leaves aside, And the echoes answering call. [ am thinking of thee, my boy, to-night, As I wat